Greens Wine Bar (Embankment)

Danny 'tunnel king' Velinski (Great Escape)

A drinks' reception in a dungeon. It's gotta be my worst nightmare.

To make matters worse, it's a reception being held in my honour. Nice. Here I am, standing at the door downing beta-blockers like a madman. Desperate to slow my racing heart.

I'd love to have taken a swerve, but there's no way I could have dug myself out of this one. You see, last year, the river bankers – Ratty, Badger and that Mole - made me patron of their Subterranean Society - The Riverbank SS they call it.

Tonight's do is all about the undisputed tunnel king; number one hero to TB-riddled pests and half-blind rodents.

Geez. If I'd been thinking straight I'd have turned down the SS from the start. Think about it; there's me, a brilliant tunneler - no doubt about that - but claustrophobic to the hilts. (never mind rain on yer wedding day Alanis luv; this is real irony.)

Any sensible neurotic would've turned down the invitation. "No thank you very much, a full diary prevents me becoming patron. However, I do wish you all the best in your mission to ruin golf courses, infect cows and bore us with your conservation issues."

A sensible neurotic, that is. But that's not me. Here's what Danny Velinski does. Accepts with gusto. "I'd love to be patron," I'd enthused. "Happy to be actively involved in functions and events," I'd written. "What a great honour," I'd lied.

Pride comes before a fall though, and tonight I'm in falling down mode.

(site host D-Fens Foster's comment – "ain't we all Danny; ain't we all")

So, I'm preparing myself for a night of voluntary incarceration in Gordon's dingy, underground tunnels surrounded by a garrison of the Riverbank SS. And it's all my fault.

This cellar bar is more oppressive than a packed tube in the middle of summer. And to top it all, they bathe the joint in candlelight turning the clock back to 1943 or maybe earlier, just to really put the spook up my Polish ass.

Not even any lager to take the edge off the terror. It's a wine bar see. Not one for the riff-raff; it's not even a proper pub really. Well, that Gordon always was a moron. And mole, who I understand chose the venue, was always too wet to arrange a pint in a real boozer.

OK, deep breath; at last the beta-blockers seem to be kicking-in; think I'm ready to descend into the heart of darkness. I'm clinging to the railing like a baby does to its mother. Gently does it.

Could a night in Gordon's gaff with Riverbank SS get any worse?

I guess it could. Just pray there aren't any krauts in tonight.

Danny 'the Tunnel King' Velinski's rating for Gordons wine bar – 1 / 10 
Sputnikski

Mole's been to the Pub
So has Ratty
Toad's been boozing too.

• View by pub
• View by reviewer
• View by place

• Natural Selection,..

  “,….. Why didn’t they live to be 100?Huh? Well, they woz running round all day, hunting mammoths, eating berries,..rumping their little hearts out. No boozing or smoking. They must have been fit as fiddles. Yer Neanderthalls……….I’ll tell you why, it’s … Continue reading →